


A Vested Interest

by MistressA



Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, Richard Armitage - Fandom
Genre: Attraction, Making Out, RPF, photoshoot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-23
Updated: 2013-01-23
Packaged: 2017-11-26 13:58:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/651220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressA/pseuds/MistressA
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An assistant on Richard Armitage's Glamour Magazine photo shoot is a fan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Vested Interest

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was to fulfill an anonymous request on Tumblr.

I take a sip of my grande caramel macchiato. It is my one extravagance and today I can’t even enjoy it. Since the coffee isn’t doing the trick I add in some breathing exercises between sips. _This is your job and you can do it._ I tell myself.

As I walk into the building and head into the elevator, my self-directed pep talk continues. _You do this every day. You’re just a small cog in the machine. He probably won’t even notice you, so there is nothing to get worked up about._

Never mind that today’s photo shoot will feature my favorite actor. I’m thanking my lucky stars that I’ve never mentioned my little celebrity crush to anyone I work with. They don’t know that I’ve spent countless hours the last few years searching the internet for photos and interviews, or that his various works play repeatedly on my laptop. And they are most certainly in the dark about the evenings I spend at home, perched in front of the computer, chatting away with friends I’ve made as a result of crushing on said actor.

The knowledge that my secret is mine alone gives me the confidence I need as I step out of the elevator and into the open, industrial loft space in which the photo shoot will be taking place.

Looking around I find the garment bags, shoe boxes and accessories all situated by a clothing rack and table, just waiting for me to get started. As I begin arranging the pieces and pressing items that need attention, my nerves fall away, the familiar routine soothing me. Trousers, button down shirts, waistcoats, socks, ties, shoes and finally cufflinks are in place as I hear the elevator doors opening once again.

There are a few voices; but the one that immediately catches my attention is familiar. A resonant baritone that is smooth like chocolate. I would know that voice anywhere and hearing it in person has my nerves returning tenfold.

 _Calm down._ I command myself.

As I turn, it feels like slow motion as he comes into my line of sight. Richard Armitage. He’s 6 feet and two and a half inches of perfection. I’ve heard other fans say that he’s even more gorgeous in person, but the truth is, until this moment, I couldn’t imagine how that was possible. Along with the photographer and my boss, the stylist for the shoot, he makes his way over to me and the clothes I’ve laid out. The closer he gets, the more I can make out of his eyes. Those beautiful orbs that seem to shift from grey to light green to kaki to blue. At this moment, my entire body is thrumming with energy as brilliant blue eyes focus on me.

“Richard, this is Alex, my assistant who will be helping for this part of the photo shoot,” my boss gestures to me.

“Very nice to meet you, Alex,” he says, holding out his hand to shake mine.

 _Pull yourself together,_ my mind is screaming at me as I lift my hand, hoping the tremors I feel aren’t obvious to him. His grasp is firm and the contact sends a spark of awareness through me. I know I’m imagining things, when I see his eyes dilate slightly, as though he felt it too. “I hope you’re happy with the selections Robin has made for you today, she’s very good.” I’m impressed with how steady my voice sounds as I speak.

“I’ve been impressed so far today. The outfit she had me in for the photos with the taxi was great.”

At the reminder that they’ve already been working elsewhere today, I wish I could have seen him in that black on black outfit. I can imagine him wearing those clothes, stepping from a taxi and making anyone lucky enough to witness the act swoon.

I’m shuffled aside by Robin, as she begins showing Richard the various pieces assembled for the shoot in the loft. After much discussion and trying on a few outfits, they settle on one, which happens to be my favorite—a two toned blue striped shirt with gold and red cuff links, a red and charcoal vest, charcoal trousers that fit his long legs and shapely backside to perfection, socks and a pair of two toned saddles shoes.

I keep reminding myself as the interview and photo shoot progress that I can’t ogle. It isn’t professional and I can’t do anything to risk my job, but I’m so enthralled. Watching his focus as he listens to the photographer, the way he scratches behind his ear or absent mindedly touches his face when he is thinking about how he’ll answer a question.

As the day draws to a close, I begin to pack away the discarded clothes and try to surreptitiously sneak peeks over my shoulder as they set up for the last shots of the day. Richard is climbing up on a table. He settles in and then he’s rolling up his cuffs and tying his shoe. If it were anyone else, it would just be normal everyday activities, but he manages to make these things look elegant and graceful.

I realize I’m staring unabashedly when Richard winks at me. I blush, turning quickly back to my task. _Oh god, how long was I staring at him?_ Trying to regain my composure, I finish packing everything up, with the exception of the outfit he has on.

“I think we’ve got everything we need,” I hear the photographer announce to the room at large a few minutes later. Richard heads over to the makeshift dressing room and comes out a few minutes later, in his jeans, grey t-shirt and leather jacket.

“You’ll be needing these back,” he winks, handing me the clothes.

As I pack up the last of the items, I hear Richard chatting with the photographer, my boss and the hair stylist and I notice that he sounds more relaxed now that he’s done being interviewed and photographed. I’d love to talk to him, but realizing that I’m finished and have no legitimate reason to hang around, I make my way to the elevator. Not wanting to interrupt the conversation, I wave at my boss and she nods in recognition.

Richard’s attention is caught by the movement of my wave and he looks in my direction. There’s a twinkle in his eye and one side of his mouth curls up in what can only be described as a sinfully sexy smirk, at the same time one of his eyebrows quirks in wry amusement.

“It’s been a pleasure,” I hear him saying as he bids everyone goodbye and makes his way to the elevator that has just opened for me.

I step in and go directly to a back corner, incredibly embarrassed by how obvious my attraction to Richard had been, although no one seemed to notice except for him. For that I should be grateful, since I’ll never see the man again after this elevator ride.

He steps in standing right beside me in the open car. The door closes and he turns to face me. “Do you watch everyone as closely as you watch me? Or am I just lucky?”

I’m thunderstruck and confused. It sounds almost like he’s flirting with me.

“I’m sorry about that,” I try to explain, “it wasn’t very professional of me.”

“I don’t mind.” Richard’s voice is lower, quieter as he edges even closer as the elevator descends, his arm brushing against mine, once again igniting that spark I felt earlier. “What are you doing now? Maybe we could go for a drink.”

It takes a moment before I even dare venture to speak. Inside my head I’m screaming. _Oh. My. God. Richard Armitage just asked me for a drink!!!_  But, I quickly reclaim my wits. He just thinks I’m attracted to him, he doesn’t know that I’m a fan. He doesn’t date fans. And I know, as painfully embarrassing as it will be, I have to tell him the truth.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I say, but before I can explain further he starts to talk.

“Sorry, I guess I just read the signals wrong,” he looks embarrassed and a bit shy.

“No, you didn’t,” I try to reassure him, “I’m a fan. That’s why it isn’t a good idea. I know you don’t date fans.”

I can hear as he exhales heavily and steps directly in front of me, he lifts a hand to my face, tilting my chin back so my gaze meets his instead of the spot on the floor I’d been observing. “You don’t blog do you? You’re not going to go and report this on some fan forum or in a chat room, right?”

“No, I would never,” I’m sad that he would have to worry about such things. But I don’t have time to think about it further because he leans in and claims my lips in a rough kiss. I’m so stunned that I don’t react for a moment, before meeting his enthusiasm with my own. My hands reach up and tangle in his hair as our teeth clash and each of our tongues fight for dominance. He’s pushing me into the elevator wall so that I feel the full length of his body against mine. One hand angles my head just right to take the kiss deeper, the other is in the small of my back, sealing me to him even more tightly. There’s a hurriedness, a desperation in this kiss, like it’s been a while and I’m an oasis in the desert.

The elevator dings when we reach the ground floor and he pulls away as the door slides open. I stand there stunned at what just happened, and Richard laughs as he takes in whatever expression is on my face.

“Come on,” he says, grabbing my hand and pulling me along and out into the night. We stand on the sidewalk, trying to hail a cab and I’m acutely aware of my hand still held firmly within his grasp. Five minutes later one finally pulls up beside us. I slide in and Richard begins to slide in beside me. As he pulls the door closed we hear my boss call out, a note of humor in her voice, “Have a good evening Alexander. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“Um,” I’m looking into Richard’s eyes which are clearly taking in the worry written all over my face.

His thumb strokes over the back of my hand in soothing circles as the taxi pulls into traffic. “Let’s just go get that drink,” Richard says and pulls me in for another searing kiss and my worries of the moment fade away.


End file.
